Page 66 of Stealing for Keeps
Claire
“You got the boot off.” Austin pauses in my doorway, stare immediately going to my right foot.
“Yep.” I lift it off the floor. It feels light without the weight of the plastic and metal.
“Congrats.” He sets his backpack on the floor. “You’re all healed now?”
I nod, not trusting my voice. All healed is relative. They’ve done all they can, but the years of wear and injury will never be able to support the hours and hours of practice needed to continue my skating career. But I’m still glad to be cleared for normal activities.
“Have you checked off all your ‘I can’t wait to get off this boot ands’?”
“My what?”
“I remember when I broke my arm, I couldn’t wait to get off the cast and wash my arm or toss a ball two-handed over my head or sleep with that arm over my face. All the things you don’t realize you enjoy so much until you can’t do them.”
“I thought you hurt your foot?”
“I did that too. But the arm was worse. Fell off the monkey bars.” He shoots me a boyish grin.
“I’m excited to wear two shoes,” I say, because the other answers are too depressing. The only thing I want to do, I can’t. That’s less depressing than not having a bunch of other things on the list. My life was all skating, and now what?
“Fair enough.” He grins as he looks at my feet again. “So what’s this idea you had for art?”
Thankful for something else to focus on, I latch on to the subject change. I pull out all my pieces for the show. I still need to put a few finishing touches on two of them, but they’re done enough to get an overall feel. Austin pulls out his portfolio, and I add his completed sketches to the mix.
He is so gifted. Each piece is stunning and interesting on its own, but together you really get a feel for his talent.
“This was my favorite,” I say, resting my fingers on the edge of one sketch.
“I redid it, like, three times before Lacey gave her approval.” He smiles and gives his head a little shake.
He did a great job capturing her. It’s a side angle, in her cheerleading outfit. He really captured the joy and excitement that Lacey brings to all things.
The other drawings are of the cafeteria and hallway. Both drawings focus less on specific people and more on the overall feel of what it’s like to be inside Frost Lake High. But in the hallway drawing, there are two girls side by side opening their lockers, and I can’t help but notice they look a little like me and Lacey.
He focused on the inside of the school, and I did paintings of places outside. The front of the school, thebreezeway between buildings, the cluttered gym closet, and one of our beloved Knights mascot.
“These are really good,” he says, looking over my work like it’s the first time. He’s watched me paint most of them.
“Thanks.” With them all laid out in front of us, I admire them but get the same nagging sense that they lack cohesion.
“I love all the pieces, but when I lay them out next to one another…”
“They don’t quite work together.” He nods thoughtfully as he continues to stare. He moves them around on the floor like he’s trying to see if the order matters. “Shit. Yeah, I think you’re right. Maybe once we have them all matted, that’ll help.”
“Maybe,” I agree. “But what if we did something together? Your sketch work with my painting.”
We toss out ideas, some focusing more on the sketches with pops of color, others with a more detailed painting approach. Neither feels quite right. They’re all too different from the other pieces.
“Something will come to us,” Austin says when we’re both frustrated and out of ideas.
“Yeah.”
He starts to pack up.
“Plans tonight?”
“My dad is in town. We’re going out to dinner.”
